What A Crazy Random Happenstance
by FelinesAndPhoenixes
Summary: A series of bizarre events brings a strange woman into Willy Wonka's life. Shenanigans, probably romance, and comedy.


Title: What a Crazy Random Happenstance

Summary: A childish game brings a young woman into Willy Wonka's life, and he hopes to never see her again. However, what you want and what you get are often different, and a series of random events keeps bring them back together, despite either of their wishes. Will they ever learn to get along? Could this possibly even end positively for them? Possibly romance, definite shenanigans.

Rating: T for language

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the characters that I've created. Which means that I don't own anything that you recognize, and even if you don't recognize it, I probably don't own it.

Author's Note: I came up with this in part because of a Sims 3 game that I was playing where I had a Willy Wonka sim and a random sim I created going to college together to try to get an art degree together. A lot of really random stuff happened, and he ended up becoming her love interest, so I thought what the hell and decided to write this.

Also, sorry if Willy seems a little OOC in this chapter. This is my first time writing his character and I'm still getting the hang of it.

And this is pre-Charlie's time.

hapter 1:

Howling wind tugged at Rayne Herrera's hair, pulling it out from inside her jacket and blowing it into her face. Even in a jacket and gloves with her scarf pulled up over her nose, she was shivering. At least four inches of snow were already on the ground and it was still coming down. "I hate you guys," she hissed to the group of college students that had gotten her into this. She was supposed to be an adult. She was nineteen, but was graduating college, thanks to being admitted at seventeen, and was about to go to law school. There was no reason that she should be hanging around with a bunch of idiots, playing truth or dare.

Standing outside of the Wonka chocolate factory gates, huddled together in the shadows, five sets of eyes were focused on her every move. "Truth or dare is stupid anyway, what are we, middle schoolers?" She glared at her friends.

"You were dared to go in there," a voice hissed out of the darkness. She wasn't sure who it was in the darkness, but one of her stupid friends. "All you have to do is go in there, and bring something back to prove it. It's not like it's hard!"

"If it's so easy, you do it then!" she hissed in anger. "I'm cold and I want to go home. I don't have to prove anything to you people…."

"Chicken!" one of them taunted. It sounded like it might have been her roommate.

"Do it!" someone else whispered. "You have to do it, or you're buying drinks for everyone, every Friday for a year! That's what we decided on, you signed the agreement….."

Rayne glared. Truth or dare really shouldn't be this difficult. And she really didn't have the kind of money that these people's drinking habits would require.

"Do it, you won't do it!" That taunt was definitely her younger sister. "Do it, you won't do it! Do it, you won't do it! Do it, you won't do it! Do it, you won't do it!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Rayne muttered to herself. "Yeah, fine. I'm going. Someone give me a boost over this gate. If I break my neck, I'm going to haunt the shit out of you guys….."

"I've got you," a voice said behind her, and she could feel warm breath down the back of her neck. She recognized Chandler's voice as he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up towards the gates and into the wind.

She muffled a shriek of terror with her leather gloves. "Damn it, Chandler," she snapped down at him. "You could have warned me!" She grabbed for the top of the gate, and got a solid grip. "Alright, I've got it," she muttered. She felt Chandler practically throw her over the gate, and suddenly she was dangling on the other side. "Shit, now what?" 

"Let go!" Chandler said, like it was obvious, which it probably should have been.

She let go and dropped down inside the gates of the factory, and crouched just inside the gate, a bit disoriented. "Ok, yeah, I've got this," she mumbled to herself. Standing up, she turned to face her friends on the other side. "Ok. I'm going to make this really fast, because if get caught, I'm going to die. I'll meet you guys back at the dorm with a souvenir or something." Turning her back on them, trying to stick to the shadows, she started to approach the imposing building.

Unfortunately, Rayne had been too caught up in the dare to worry about security cameras, and there was a solid chance that her friends had been too intoxicated to consider that factor, or how she was planning on getting back out, as there would be no one on the other side to boost her back over the gate. Of course, security cameras were the more immediate problem, and even though they hadn't thought about it, they were being watched.

Unfortunately for Rayne, the person watching was none too thrilled. Willy Wonka stared at the screen on his desk, eyes narrowed in barely suppressed rage. Nothing irritated him more than being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night because of alarms going off as someone tried to break in. No one from outside had been into the factory for years, and he was definitely not in the mood to change that now. He supposed that he'd been thinking about it for a while now, and he knew that it would have to happen eventually. Why else would he be sponsoring a scholarship contest with his lawyer's firm, hoping to attract a new practitioner of business law? In fact, he'd finished the last of the essays last night, decided which anonymous student would win, and emailed his response to the head of the firm. Supposedly they would be informing his future lawyer in the morning. The time was clearly coming, but the time wasn't now.

He watched the screen as the young woman not so stealthily crept up the front walk. Surprisingly, she avoided the main door, and started to walk along the building, one hand running along the wall, looking for another door. He watched at the feed changed from one camera's point of view to another, tracking her movements. She'd reached a fire door on the side of the building. He watched as she found the doorknob, turned, and pulled. To his horror, the door opened easily and allowed her access. He could have sworn that the doors were kept locked, as he'd requested. He sighed and rubbed his temples. One of the Oompa Loompas has doubtlessly unlocked the door after becoming aware of her presence, thinking that it would be somehow amusing. He yanked himself out of thought and stood up, dashing out of his office. He had to stop her before she touched something, or saw something, or did something that she shouldn't.

Rayne paused inside the door, pulling her scarf further up over her face. There was no one around, and the building seemed to echo with silence. The smell of chocolate was all around her, and it made her smile despite the fact that she was on this asinine quest. She had to find something distinctive to prove that she'd been there, and get the hell out before she got caught. Unfortunately, she seemed to have ended up in an access corridor, and there was nothing to be seen other than walls. Keeping her head down and watching the ground for even a scrap of paper, she headed down the hall and slowly turned the corner.

As she came around the corner, something collided with her, sending her falling backwards to the ground, where she narrowly avoided hitting her head. She shrieked in shock, all thought of discretion flying out the window. Clearly whoever it was already knew that she was there anyway. Panicked and almost hyperventilating, she got to her feet and looked to see what she'd crashed into. The man that had crashed into her was staring at her incredulously. He was wearing a vividly purple pair of silk pajamas and a darker robe with polka dotted slippers. His auburn hair was cut even with his chin, and vivid purple eyes watched her disapprovingly.

Still panicking, she yanked her scarf back up over her nose, as it had slid down in the fall, and gasped. "Oh, bloody hell," she whispered. "I'm dead. I am so freaking dead." There was obviously only one person that this could be, and that was Willy Wonka. And that meant that she was all kinds of screwed. Mentally, she said goodbye to her dreams of getting her master's degree and getting a real job. She couldn't imagine herself wearing a striped prison jumpsuit for the rest of her life, after being thrown into jail for breaking and entering. That would just be….terrible.

"What do you think you're doing here?" he asked, a very serious expression on his face.

She gasped for breath. "Um…... Uh. That is….you see…..I..uh…rather." She suddenly blurted, all in one breath, "It wasn't really breaking and entering, it was really just entering, since the door was unlocked, and my friends dared me to come in here, and I was supposed to get something for proof that I had been in here, and I was supposed to come back, and it was just a stupid game, and I'm going to go to jail, and never have a real job or finish school, and I'm just so screwed!" Having finished her rant, she fell to her knees on the floor, one hand stretched out in front of her to hold her weight, the other holding her scarf over her face as she gasped.

Surprising even himself, Willy knelt down in front of her, peering closely at her. She didn't seem to be inebriated, but she did seem to be in the middle of a rather fierce anxiety attack. Hesitantly, he reached out and touched her arm with one purple gloved hand. "Um…..miss, if you could just take a deep breath and calm down and try that again?"

There was silence except for her breathing for a good three minutes, then she took a deep steadying breath, and sat back, crossing her legs, elbows resting on her knees, head in her hands. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice suddenly very calm and controlled. "I didn't mean to come crashing in here like this. I was playing a stupid game with my friends, and they dared me to come in here and bring back proof that I'd been here. I wouldn't have bothered, but the contract that I signed stipulated," she waved one hand vaguely and amended, "there was a contract because my friends are legal students, and they're jerks. But anyway, according to the contract, if I didn't do the dare, I would have to buy their drinks every Friday for a pretty long time, and there are a lot of them, and they drink a lot, and I'm a student, and I don't have very much money, and…"

Willy sighed. She'd started to talk fast again. With his luck she'd start hyperventilating, and a random woman passing out on his floor was just what he needed. "Calmly," he prompted, crossing his legs and becoming comfortable, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. The faster that he got her story out of her, the faster he could decide what to do with her and get her out of his hallway.

"I couldn't afford the consequences of not completing the dare," she concluded. "I mean, I can't afford the consequences of getting caught either, but…..ugh." Gesturing with her hands, she added, "rock, hard place, me."

He nodded sagely back at her from where he was sitting. His gaze flitted over her, taking in every detail. She was young, probably only twenty or so, wearing an overly large, well worn black wool jacket and leather gloves. Her lilac scarf was pulled up in the front to cover her nose and mouth like she was afraid to breathe, and her hair obscured most of her face. Her eyes were practically the only thing he could see, and they were a pale green, and rather teary. If there was one thing that he couldn't stand, it was crying women. Or people in general, really. With a sigh, he reached into the breast pocket of his pajamas and pulled out his ever present handkerchief and handed it to her almost sadly. But, he supposed, sacrificing one handkerchief was worth getting this woman away from him. "Here," he said, shoving the handkerchief at her and jerking his hand away.

She sniffled into the handkerchief. "Look, Mr. Wonka, I'm sorry that I came in here. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and I understand that you'll have to take legal action and…" She broke off with a muffled sob into the handkerchief.

He winced. "Look, Miss….what is your name anyway?"

"Rayne Herrera," she sniffled, her voice muffled by the handkerchief and her gloves.

"Miss Herrera," he said, trying to find a tactful way of telling her to get out, "in light of the….uh, circumstances….because you didn't get further than this hallway….I just going to send you home. You'll get one warning, but if you ever do this again, there will be consequences. If you could please…just go….." He got to his feet and gestured for her to follow, gesturing towards the door.

She got to her feet with a shriek, waving the handkerchief wildly and threw her arms around him. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she chanted, moving to kiss his cheek.

He pushed her away. "Um, ew," he said, frantically gesturing at her. "Out you go, out you go. Leaving? Yes, good idea. I'll have someone open the gate for you. Goodbye, goodbye!" Grabbing her firmly by her elbow, he practically dragged her down the hallway and pushed her back out the access door, which he slammed behind her and locked, with the general plan of going to change and burn his pajamas. No one wanted pajamas that had been touched by a hysterically sobbing female. There were probably germs everywhere. Hurrying off to get the gate open, he tried to push Rayne Herrera from his mind, wanting to just forget the entire evening.

The next afternoon, Rayne was walking with Chandler on her way to work, recounting the story to him for the fifth time. "And he really gave you his handkerchief?" Chandler asked, disbelievingly.

"Yes!" Rayne said, tugging it out of hiding beneath her shirt, the only place she'd been able to put it that her friends would stop trying to take it. The white silk, with the purple W embroidered on it had remained in her possession even when she slept. She was going to keep her own damned memento, and her sister and her roommate could just go to hell. She looked down at her watch and groaned. "Damn it, I have to hurry," she muttered, putting it back and running, turning the corner and leaving Chandler behind.

A few blocks away, she dashed into a small brownstone building, bell tinkling over the door. "Sorry I'm late!" she called to the receptionist as she hurried past into her boss's office, pulling off her coat, but not her gloves or scarf. "Sorry I'm late, Mr. Marks!" she panted as she took a seat across from his mahogany desk. "I know you wanted to talk to me, and that's why we had this appointment, but I thought that since I'm leaving for graduate school next week, that I wasn't technically working here any longer?"

Mr. Marks, a prominent lawyer from Whitehall and Marks, watched her over the desk. "Well, yes, that had been the plan, Rayne, but there was a matter that I wished to discuss with you. You had entered a contest that we were running. The sponsor of the contest, who wishes to remain anonymous for now, was to read the essay submissions and chose a winner, who's law school would be paid for, as well as any expenses related to taking the bar exam…..with the caveat that as soon as the winner became real lawyer, they would be an on-site attorney for the client, practicing business law." He tapped his fingers on the desk and watched her. She was blank face and staring at him evenly. "The point is," he continued, "yours was the essay that the client picked, and they're wanting to sponsor your law school, in exchange for you sighing a contract stating that you will work for them after."

Rayne felt like she would faint. "Really? Me? I won? Mr. Marks, surely there's been some mistake."

"No mistake," the lawyer said, sliding a stack of papers across the desk to her. "I would read over these if I were you, and make a decision quickly. There's very little time to get everything processed."

**Author's Note: **It kind of just amused me that this kind of crazy random happenstance might happen, so that's what happened. I'll be updating soon, hopefully.


End file.
